Cherie Priest (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cheriepriest) wrote2019-11-11 05:36 pm
cheriepriest) wrote2019-11-11 05:36 pm
Playing games of levitation, meditating in the garden
Here's today’s progress on my modern gothic ghost story about the fallout from a school shooting 25 years ago, told from the POV of four survivors - with Bonus! memories both faulty and true, intergenerational violence and grace alike, and a boarded up school with thirty-two ghosts who know something the police never figured out. This bad-boy is one part The Haunting of Hill House, one part The Frighteners, and one part Bowling for Columbine. Wish me luck.
Project: Kill Me Now
Deadline: none ::throws confetti::
New words written: 2027
Present total word count: 31,445
Things accomplished in real life: Walked the dogs; cleaned up NO dog pee after two days in a row of dog pee city; did two big loads of laundry; went shopping for husband’s birthday present wrapping stuff; put his birthday loot all together and made it look nice; arranged for a couch delivery tomorrow; answered some overdue messages; cleaned the kitchen.
Things accomplished in fiction: Met up for the first time in ages and headed off to investigate a poltergeist at the Biltmore on Cap Hill.
Darling duJour: “[they walked] in silence down a hall that smelled like mildew and vomit and pipe tobacco with a hint of eau de “mummy’s tomb.”
Other: Stupid couch should be here stupid early, dammit - but I’ll be glad to finally have something that doesn’t smell like dog farts and cat puke and the curry my husband spilled all over the place a month ago.
Approximate number of fiction words so far this year: 101,989
Project: Kill Me Now
Deadline: none ::throws confetti::
New words written: 2027
Present total word count: 31,445
Things accomplished in real life: Walked the dogs; cleaned up NO dog pee after two days in a row of dog pee city; did two big loads of laundry; went shopping for husband’s birthday present wrapping stuff; put his birthday loot all together and made it look nice; arranged for a couch delivery tomorrow; answered some overdue messages; cleaned the kitchen.
Things accomplished in fiction: Met up for the first time in ages and headed off to investigate a poltergeist at the Biltmore on Cap Hill.
Darling duJour: “[they walked] in silence down a hall that smelled like mildew and vomit and pipe tobacco with a hint of eau de “mummy’s tomb.”
Other: Stupid couch should be here stupid early, dammit - but I’ll be glad to finally have something that doesn’t smell like dog farts and cat puke and the curry my husband spilled all over the place a month ago.
Approximate number of fiction words so far this year: 101,989